• • •
This is bad.
Maybe I should have waited until after his game had finished. I didn't think it through with him having to go back onto the ice. I knew I had to tell him before the girls did something stupid.
Telling him was harder than I thought it would be, as I had rehearsed for hours what I would say and how I would say it. Yet standing in front of him when he was sweaty and beat up from his game, my mind blanked. Truth be told, I was scared. I did not know how he was going to react or what he was going to say.
Was he going to scream at me in front of everyone so that everyone knew? Would he completely ignore me? Would he dismiss the thought completely? Turns out he did all, yet none. Nothing was resolved, and I was left standing in the humid tunnel full of sweat with the security guard peering at me like I was a criminal.
I spent 10 minutes waiting and thinking. What do I do now? Should I find my seat? Should I stay here? Turns out my thoughts would be answered for me in the form of Coach Quinn.
He cleared his throat, coming to stand in front of where I was leaning against the wall. My head shoots up in alarm and I cover myself with my arms. Had Sloan told him? Will he demand I leave? I'm sure Sloan has told his team about our mutual hatred for each other and that unfortunately means it includes his coach.
"Do you want me to leave?" I ask before clearing my throat and adding, "Sir."
He sighs, watching me, "No." He shakes his head. "Quiet the opposite. Go to your seat. Damn boy won't stop swinging his head around like a lost puppy looking for his owner." He rolls his eyes.
My mouth gapes, "Really?"
"Whatever you were talking about was important and I'm sure you didn't sort it all out in the 2 minutes you had to talk. So I'm betting he told you to wait and wants to know you didn't leave. Sound about right?" He raises an eyebrow in question.
I'm still shocked that somehow he has been completely correct.
He hums, nodding his head. "That's what I thought."
"Go. Maybe this will pull his head back in the game." Is the last thing he mutters before turning back to leave the tunnel and enter the sides.
Back in the game? What have I missed?
Turns out I missed a lot. In 10 minutes, the whole direction of the match can completely change. We are losing. The good news is that we are only losing by 1 point as the score is now 4-3. The bad news is that Sloan Murphy is a wreck.
I really should have waited until after.
I have never seen him this out of control. He is missing shots, not defending his position and getting aggressive with one of the opposing players in particular.
This is bad. Now I don't know much about ice hockey. Yet I at least know that we are losing and that our team is getting increasingly annoyed with him as the timer ticks on.
I watch him looking around again, but he hasn't caught my eye again. Did he think I would leave after surprising him with the news? I mean, I guess I didn't really do anything to reassure him, either.
I don't have time to ponder it too much as the same guy from earlier brutally tackles Sloan to the ice. The crowd gasps in shock as his helmet comes tumbling off his head, leaving it vulnerable to the ice. I can feel my heart beating widely out of my chest and I hold my breath in anticipation.
Why isn't he getting up?
The ref has blown the horn as his teammates try to push past the other team to get to him. Coach is screaming from the side and when no one moves to do anything, grabs the guy closest to him by the collar.
Not being able to sit here and watch, I shoot up from my seat and race through the rows until I reach the small wall, stopping myself from getting to the glass.
"Sloan," I shout.
He twitches slightly as his eyes open, only to close again a few moments later.
"Get up. I thought you were supposed to kick some ass, as you people say." I yelled, not paying any attention to the fact that the whole arena had gone silent.
His eyes open at that and meet mine as his face contorts into a scowl. I can only see half as his face is still pressed against the ice. He mutters something before slowly dragging himself to stand up and grabbing his helmet off the ice.
A hand grabs around my elbow and starts pulling me away.
"Hey!" I complain, trying to shrug the person off. Looking up, I notice it's the same security guy from earlier.
"You are causing disruption." Is all he replies still trying to pull me away.
"Disruption? Let me go."
"No can do. It's my job."
"Yeah? Well, your job can kiss my ass," I snap. I try to ignore how I have cursed twice in literally 60 seconds. If mother was here, she would probably cry at how shameful it is.
"Ma'am, please be respectful."
"Respectful? Says the guy that is trying to forcefully remove me. Get off me."
"Sloan, why don't you try to control your girl? Maybe put a leash on her next time you bring her places." Number 9 taunts Sloan and I recognise it is the same guy that has been harassing him all night. I can hear the astonishment from the team and Coach is shaking his head.
"Excuse me? I have not been the one illegally shoving people around because, clearly, it is the only way to win when you are a loser like yourself." I narrow my eyes at him and watch as he turns red in anger.
"Hey! Watch it." I panic as I am pulled with more force than before and nearly trip over one of the chairs. How can I tell him to be careful without having to tell him I'm pregnant?
"Careful, she's mine. I told you that earlier." Sloan's voice calls out from the ice as he skates over. His eyes quickly flick over my form, checking for injuries.
The guy loosens his hold enough for me to snatch my arm back and glare at him as he walks away.
"Evanna."
"Yes?" I question quietly, moving closer towards the glass as the ref behind sorts out everyone's positioning.
"Sit quietly." He mutters.
My eyes widen in shock, "You were not moving. Plus, what that guy said was disgusting. Then that security guard almost pulled me over. I had to protect myself and you know why." I hiss, annoyed that he is not thinking of these things.
"You don't think I know that? Leave the asshole to me. Ignore the guard. They shouldn't go anywhere near you and just be quiet." He looks toward the clock. "We have 7 minutes left until intermission. Once time is up, go back to the tunnel. We need to talk."
I nod in agreement, but I say nothing more as he is pulled away quickly to be checked over so we can start the game back up. They have taken number 9 off, and everyone is back in position to play.
The arena is slightly quieter now because of the mess of things, but there is still the same anticipation. Sitting back in my seat, I shiver slightly from the cool bite of air rushing past as the soothing sound of skates almost puts me to sleep.
I didn't realise I was so tired. Wiping a hand down my face, I sigh as I can feel a headache coming on. I haven't been sleeping well this past month and now, with me being pregnant; I fear it is going to catch up sooner rather than later.
The celebratory horn sounds and shocks me for a moment. I eye the scoreboard, seeing our number go up, so we are now tied to the opposing team. Ronan catches my eye as he watches me and my lips raise in a small smile of reassurance. I watch as he nods to Sloan in ok.
Knowing there are only 2 minutes left of this round, I get up, ready to head to the tunnel and also go to the toilet. How many of these rounds do they have? Do they not get tired? My brain hurts. After peeing for what feels like hours, I rush towards the tunnel eyeing the guard who watches me with amusement.
Coming to a stop against the wall, I think about what I am going to say to him. Yet, something catches my eye on the floor and I realise it is Sloan's water bottle. He must have dropped it earlier when I told him. Did he need some more water?
Picking it up, I shake it lightly to see if it has anything in and when I hear nothing; I look around for somewhere to fill it up. Maybe if I surprise him with a full water bottle, he won't be as mad at me. A girl can hope, I guess.
The crowd cheers and the round has finished as the tunnel become increasingly busy with teams going for toilet or water runs. I watch as coach talks to the team and receives encouraging nods in return.
"Oi, princess!"
I scowl and turn to see number 9 walking towards me, a nasty glare on his face. I meet Sloan's eye behind him and watch as he tries to get past his team, but they haven't finished talking. So filled with determination I face this guy.
I raise an eyebrow, leaning into my right hip and crossing my arms.
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be in such a boisterous place." He copies me and crosses his arms.
"Pretty thing?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. The tunnel has gone quiet and I can see both teams are watching our interaction with wide eyes.
"First you insult me and now you think you can hit on me?"
"Well, I heard you pay well. Can't blame a guy for trying. Trailer park shouldn't hog you."
I gasp in shock, watching the guard coming to my rescue to grab a hold of him and take him away. "Don't." I shake my head. Sloan is barrelling forward straight for the guy and I panic not wanting this to get worse. So I move in front just in time to stop him.
His eyes widen when they see me there and he reaches for me as bumps into me. I breathe a sigh of relief, noticing we are still standing. I'm tucked right into his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around me like a shield.
My heart skips a beat, but I ignore it and slowly push him away. Looking into his eyes, I can see he is angry, but underneath, I spot the tiniest flash of worry before it's gone.
"Christ Evanna. What were you thinking?" He snaps.
I ignore him and turn back to this asshole who won't leave us alone.
Pretty thing? Pay well? Trailer park? Yeah, well, he can see how well my fist pays first-class attention to his face.
"Say that again," I ask calmly. Sloan goes to step forward but with a hand to his chest and a shake of my head, he stops.
"You pay well, don't you, sugar mama?" He grins, showing off yellow-tinted teeth. Clearly a smoker I wrinkle my nose in distaste.
One second he is grinning and the next he is holding his nose and my knuckles are throbbing. Oh, gosh, I punched someone. Was it worth it? To put him in his place? The cheers from around us suggest so. My hand, however, is dying.
"Fuck. Jesus Evanna." Sloan grabs ahold of my hand and brings it closer to his face to inspect it.
"I need to check her over. I'll be back." He announces to Coach Quinn. He nods once before regrouping the rest of the team. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat and it makes me feel sick. What the hell did I do? Number 9 is shouting after us, blood dripping down his face as the security guard for earlier holds him back. I swear I hear him mutter he deserves it, but I can't be too sure.
Sloan is walking quickly and checking every hall as he mumbles to himself. Finding an empty room, he shoves us both in and it is then I realise it is a first aid room. Bending down, he opens a drawer and pulls out the green box.
He says nothing, silently fuming to himself, and I watch cautiously. I have really made a mess of things.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, holding my hand to my chest.
He scoffs, "Sorry?" Without warning, his hands grasp my hips and lift me onto the stretcher bed. His hands coming to open my thighs to step between them. "I don't even know what to say right now."
I'm quiet after that and watch as he tends to my hand. Once again, I feel so alone, so out of my depth, that saying I was drowning would be an understatement.
"You're not the only one. I'm going through it too, okay?" I sniff, trying not to let the moisture building up in my eyes slip through.
He lifts his head once my hand is wrapped and looks me in the eye and, for some reason; I feel the need to spill everything.
"I'm sorry for springing this on you in the middle of your game. I panicked and knew I had to tell you now before you found out from someone else. I'm sorry I don't sit quietly and that they almost removed me when you told me to stay. I'm not sorry that I punched that guy - he was mean. Not to me, but you as well, and I guess I'm feeling fragile at the moment." I cry, mindlessly wiping my tears away, yet they fall faster than I can catch them.
All I know is that I was exhausted, in pain and wanted all the thoughts constantly running one hundred miles an hour to stop. Even just for a second so I could breathe, think and come up with some general plan.
"I know." He nods his head, his hands coming to rest on my knees. "Does anyone else know?" He questions quietly.
I laugh humorously. "That was half the problem."
He frowns in confusion but before I can elaborate the door is pushed open and Coach leans against the door frame. "Sorry Sloan, but you need to go back on now."
My face crumples. "Again?" I ask, looking back towards Sloan as my shoulders drop.
"I'm sorry, Miss Hill, but he is my best player."
"I wouldn't expect anything less, Sir" I smile sadly. Gosh, this is going to change everything, not just for me but for him as well.
"I'll be there. Give me a second." He insisted not looking at me. Coach shuts the door quietly and we say nothing for a minute.
"How many more of these do you have left?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"This is the last one. A game is three 20 minute segments, you could say." Is all he says.
He is mad at me.
Fair enough. I guess I have kind of ruined his night.
"Common." He mumbles once again, grabbing my hips and placing me on the floor. "Follow me."
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere you will be safe, so I don't have to pay attention to you."
"Oh."
Walking quickly down the hall, I recognise we are heading back towards the tunnel and I remember I am still carrying his water bottle.
"Stay until the end. Then we need to talk. Properly."
"Okay. Where?" I question, as we enter the tunnel.
He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "We will go somewhere for some food. I'm starving and you need to eat. Not just for you anymore."
I nod in agreement, but he doesn't see me as he walks in front. He stops abruptly, turning towards me, and then he studies me for a second. One hand comes up to hold my chin and the other wipes away any remaining tears. "No more crying, yeah?"
My breath hitches as I try to nod in agreement, but with his hands still holding my face, I can't move so much. I lick my lips as they feel dry and taste the salty residue of my tears. His eyes drop and watch.
When his eyes meet mine again, it's almost like we lock together. Neither of us looks away, and it feels weird. Something I have never felt before. Clearing his throat, he drops his hands and steps back.
"Oh," I remember. "You dropped this earlier, so I thought you wanted some more. I filled it up." I explain, handing him back his water bottle. His eyes widen in surprise as he gazes over my face as I smile in unsureness.
"Thanks." A hand comes up to rub the back of his neck.
This feels weird.
"I might have poisoned it, though. Or put a sedative in there." I drawl, unable to help the need to rile him up.
His scowl is immediate as he gently pushes me forward towards the side of the ice.
"Wait, what are you doing?" I panic. "I was lying. It is water."
"Relax." He deadpans. "Plus, how do I know you are telling the truth?"
"Uh, you don't?" I offer.
He doesn't reply, so I continue, "That's the point. You have to trust me." I wink.
"I don't. That is the point."
This time it's me who doesn't reply.
"Asshole," I grumble.
"Idiot." He snides before changing his expression into the charming smile everyone else loves. I then see where we were. Some of his team in sat on a bench alongside Coach Quinn.
"Coach." Sloan calls grabbing his attention, "Can you look after her for me while I finish?"
"I don't need a babysitter." I scoff, crossing my arms.
Coach and Sloan both look at me. Jeez.
Sitting me down, he explains to Coach that he can't leave my side and to not let anyone near me. Crouching down in front of me, his hands stable himself on my knees. "20 minutes. Then we talk. Then I take you home. I know you're tired."
"Um-hum." I nod, too tired to keep glaring at him.
With that, I watch as Coach speaks the last huddle before sending them off to get into their positions on the ice.
He then sits down right next to me.
Am I going to have to make conversation now?
How awkward. I'm the girl who has ruined their match, punched some guy, cried a ton and he knows about Sloan and I having sex, plus the rumours. If that doesn't make things worse, knowing that we hate each other, which means Sloan has most definitely moaned about me to his team. Which then equals his coach.
Oh goody.
He goes to speak but before he can utter anything Sloan quickly skates to the side and grabs his bottle.
"Be nice." He demands, looking at me.
I frown. I am always nice.
Then he does something.
He swigs the bottle, eyes watching me.
• • •
Hi, Honey Bees 💛
How did we like this chapter?
I feel like there was a lot to unpack this chapter. This may feel like a filler but I really wanted to encapsulate the process of their thoughts as having a baby is not something you take lightly.
Also this is not the end of them hating each other. Having a baby will not change their dynamic. They have to grow and figure out that on their own.
I don't like the fact that in a lot of unplanned pregnancy books they only seem to get together because of the baby or it speeds things up at a unnatural rate. This will not happen in this book!
They will have to actually like each other this time.
Which may seem far off at this point and you would be right.
Q's
Did you expect Evanna to punch Number 9?
Did you think she would leave?
How do you think Sloan is taking it?
What do you think is going to happen next?
As always thank you for your feedback and support it means the world. Seeing you all Love and Light! <3
If you enjoyed this chapter please,
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See you soon,
Winnie x
winnieiswriting 2022